


So Close to Leaving

by grafitti



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends, 蛍火の杜へ | Hotarubi no Mori e
Genre: Almost death, Angst, Character Death, Crossover, Festivals, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gin is natsume, Gin!Natsume, Kitsune, M/M, Masks, Natsume Yuujinchou AU, Natsume is Gin, Nobody Actually Dies, Prequel, Spirits, Summer, Transformation, Vague, Vagueness, Youkai, Youkai!Natsume, but not really all that vague, its an addiction, its pretty easy to tell what's going on, ive got a lot of fucking tags, to Hotarubi that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grafitti/pseuds/grafitti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natori and Natsume go to a summer festival together. But things are different. Natsume is different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Close to Leaving

He feels more magical.

That was Natori's first thought. He was different. But his hair hasn't changed. It shined the same silvery hue as last week. His voice hasn't changed. It was still the soft-spoken, yet confident, lull that it was before. But he was different.

A pale hand tugged at the strip of cloth between them. His fingers were thin and delicate; pretty, even. One end of the soft yellow scarf was wrapped around his wrist, and the other end was wrapped around Natori's, entwined like their fingers would have been ( _should have been_ ).

Natsume smiled kindly at Natori, meeting his eyes easily. He was the same as he was before. But he seemed to have more initiative now. Was a little more lively ( _ironic_ ). His eyes were different. Not green like they used to be, but a palette of silver just a shade darker than his hair. Two round mirrors that prevented Natori from seeing inside.

He could no longer touch him. He couldn't hold his hand or runs a hand through his hair. No reassuring hugs. No way to catch him when he falls to the ground. It was a bittersweet kind of magic, and it felt to Natori that it was going to bring about some sort of end. The path they were on had already tapered out, taken by the grass, and splayed twigs.

* * *

 

They were in Yatsuhara, deep within the forest. He had a job – this time it was to find and seal a dangerous spirit; one that could kill with but a touch. Natsume ( _the fool_ ) tagged along, as is custom; he was a welcome warmth by Natori's side. Small, but persistent, like a candle.

He told the boy that it would be dangerous. That he didn't want to lose him. Like always, Natsume assured him that he would be fine, and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek ( _but no more_ ). Like always, Natori gave in, and let him tag along ( _if only he didn't_ ).

The forest was greener than he'd ever seen it before; a deep, dark green, like Natsume's eyes. And like his eyes, Natori found himself lost in that green. It hid things well. Natsume's eyes hid secrets, emotions, thoughts, while the forest hid monsters, dangers, and things that would lurk behind you. But his eyes always told the truth, always gave something away when they tried to hide it.

They never should have split up to search. But they did. It was more effective that way ( _“The search will be faster this way.” Typical Natsume_ ). One man down one path, and a boy down the other.

It took only minutes to hear a scream ( _it made his heart screech like shattered glass_ ).

* * *

“Natori, let's go look over there!” said Natsume. “They have some interesting masks.”

Smiling softly, Natori followed him, his hand gripping the yellow scarf that held his wrist. The silver-haired boy guided him through the stalls, through the various youkai patrons at the festival. It felt strange, to be in the same space as so many youkai, ones that acted like they were human. When everyone wore yukata, things started to blend together.

Did it mean that Natsume was just acting now?

Unaware of the blonde's thoughts, Natsume kneeled, bringing the man down with him. Hands picked at the masks on display. Noh masks. Tengu masks. Cat masks. Ogre masks. He stopped at the fox mask.

“On TV, fox spirits like to wear masks a lot,” the boy held the mask above his head, as if seeing it's silhouette from the light above would change it, “but I've never seen one wear a mask in real life.” He turned it gently in his hand, squinting at the bright light shining through the translucent eye sockets. Satisfied, he tied it loosely to his own face, and the light of his eyes ( _silver mirrors – not green pools_ ) shined out of it instead.

“I suppose it's because they already have their own face.” Natori replied softly, his mouth going only as close to the other's ear as he would dare, quickly backing away when the boy turns his head towards him.

“Or maybe a shape shifter doesn't need an extra disguise,” the boy replied.

Natori purchased the cheap mask for barely 400 yen.

* * *

His body was still as a rock. Cold as stone. But he was alive, and that was all that mattered. There was a chance.

Natori kneeled by the boy, hunched over his slight frame, hands on either side of his head. One hand caressed his cheek.

Madara gazed solemnly upon his charge.

“He won't last much longer.” It was true. Natsume's breathing was shallow, almost as if it wasn't even there. His eyes refused to open. His skin pale, and his limbs limp. Almost like a ghost.

Growling, Natori snatch up a rock and chucked it at the white beast curled around the two humans.

“How could you say that?” He yelled, voice breaking on the 's' sound. “He's going to live, I know it! Just wait until Hiiragi gets back with Yamagami-sama, he can do something about this.”

Madara only sighed, hot breath flaring from his nostrils. Slowly, gently, he laid his head down next to Natsume's, nudging the boy ever so slightly to know that he was still there. No tears escaped. Not like Natori, who cried profusely. Natori could see unspoken words in the way Madara looked at Natsume. He accepted it. ( _It would be better if you just let him go._ ) The silent words tiptoed on the edge of Natori's skull.

A shuffle of feet. The rustle of thick robes.

“Natori, I have arrived.” A young woman's voice called. “And I am with Lord Yamagami.”

The mountain god was a tall figure. His body is covered by a white robe. His face covered by a large mask, plain in design ( _unless the mask was his face itself_ ). His clothes shared almost the same essence as a tree, whose branches and leaves trailed behind him and draped over him like a shawl, almost part of him.

“So this is Natsume.” His voice echoed deeply. A long, leafy finger gently traced the outline of Natsume's cheek. “It is a shame that the first I see him, he is in such a state.”

“Can you heal him?” Natori begged. “Please, I’ll do anything; just save him.” Anything. He'd do anything.

The mountain god knelt down, soft grass growing around him where he sat. Slowly, solemnly, he shook his head as he lowered it to be closer to Natsume. Natori tried his best to control his sobs. What else was there now, if Natsume couldn't be healed?

“But I can help him in another way,” murmured Yamagami as he placed a hand over Natsume's face.

* * *

Natsume held the mask in his hands, staring at it's wide black eyes. It's emotionless smile.

“No one would be able to guess what I am now.” Natsume whispered, once again placing the mask over his face. “And no one would know that I am still human. I am something in-between, aren't I?” A solemn voice. An undercurrent of wistfulness. Yet somehow confident; lively, even.

He couldn't deny it. He couldn’t say no. He couldn't say that he was still human, because he wasn't. Not anymore. Natsume turned away from him when he didn't answer, tugging at the yellow scarf to make the man stand up with him. Together, they walked back toward the entrance of the festival, ready to leave it behind. Glancing over, Natori caught Natsume looking at him. The boy took off his mask, and smiled, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. ( _Those silver, mirror eyes._ )

“The lizard looks like a necklace on you,” he chuckles softly, reaching out to touch Natori's neck, but he stops himself. He retracted his hand, remembering his condition. “Lord Yamagami said that I can never be with humans again.” ( _“But I want to be with you,” the unspoken words linger._ ) “It would be too painful, seeing them age. Not being able to touch them.”

“I will always be with you, Natsume.” Not even Natori believed it, but that was okay. Both of them were okay with pretending for now.

Natori took hold of the mask and slipped it back onto Natsume's face, careful to keep the mound of his thumb firmly on the white mask. He lifted his arm and pulled at the scarf with the other, forcing the boy to come closer, but not too close. Carefully and firmly, he placed a kiss on the top of his mask ( _all his love._ ) If this was the only way to be with him, then he wanted this moment to last forever. When Natori pulled back, Natsume leaned in, and bumped the mouth of his mask to Natori's ( _all his love._ )

“And I will always be here.” Natsume whispered.

* * *

Madara waited at the gate in his cat form, clearly grumpy from waiting for his charge.

“What took you so long? Just because you're tied to dead weight doesn't mean that you can make me wait for more than twenty minutes!” Madara scolded him, but he didn't mean it. ( _Time was nothing to them now._ )

“Ah, sorry, sorry.” Natsume placated him, one hand raised. Reluctantly, he untied the scarf around his wrist, leaving Natori to untie the part wrapped around his own wrist. The man placed the scarf in Natsume's hands, careful not to brush his skin, however much he wanted to do just that. It was a delicate, fragile type of magic; much too easily blown away to allow the boy was he wanted. ( _Needed._ )

Madara leapt into Natsume's arms, trying to share a warmth with him that was already been lost. He glared over the boy's shoulder at the exorcist as they started to move, more out of habit than of dislike. Natori felt that he and the cat would never truly be on good terms.

He could see Natsume's blue yukata become smaller and smaller as he watched them continue down the path. The darkness obscured him as they became farther away. As Natori watched the boy disappear into the forest, his heart tore to pieces because he knew that eventually, one of them was going to leave forever.

When Natori turned his back, a glowing pair of silver eyes peeked out from the darkness of the forest. Almost magical.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the pic this work was inspired by:  
> http://data2.whicdn.com/images/20722837/large.jpg  
> http://www.zerochan.net/1131285
> 
> While I've written plenty of terrible fanfiction, I've never written something like this before, so I hope it broke your heart.
> 
> Orginally, it was supposed to be third person limited for Madara instead of Natori, with Madara observing Natsume in his new environment among the spirits, and disapproving, but knowing that it was the way for Natsume to live (or rather, that it was no way for Natsume to live.) But I kind of forgot about that and I found a picture of Natori and Natsume-as-Gin at a festival where Natori kisses his mask (like how Gin does in his own story. Ha!) I thought it was cute, so I changed it up for this instead.


End file.
